Stream of Conciousness
by Talksick
Summary: Set after book two. Collin rambles. About Tory, Mandy, school, Dr. Garrets, life, the universe, and everything.


I really should have known there was less to Tory than he made it seem. Sure, he's a smart kid, but the operative word here is _kid_. He's impulsive, acts on whims and intuitions and gets surprised when the hole he dug himself into is a lot deeper than he thought it was. He's blundering around in the dark and doesn't understand why he keeps banging into things.

I'm almost mad at myself for making him seem a lot less shallow than he really is. Why did I get close to a teenager and expect him not to be emotional? Why was I expecting an ounce of professionalism from a kid?

It eve makes sense, when I think about it. The kid's got no sense of self at all. I mean- fuck- I'm far from psychic, but even cold, antisocial, isolated ole me can tell when someone's got a crush the size of Texas (everything's bigger in Texas) on me. But the guy who's _got_ the crush can't figure it out?

Even Mandy (speaking of blundering in the dark) knows more about what's going on in Tory's head than Tory does.

He stutters when I get too close, trips if I'm walking with him and turns twelve shades of red if I hold his hand but- and you can from the expression on his face- he can't figure out why. Being gay is not an option for poor, confused little Tory. And if you won't _accept_ an emotion, then you can't stop it from getting in the way. I've been trying to use it against him to figure out who he's working for, but that's the only part of this little game he's been able to keep from me.

The good Doctor Garrets refuses to trust me. He rants about bad influences, staying the course and his precious funding without once considering that maybe not _everything_ I'm doing is simply my silly teenage hormones getting in the way. He's made 'subtle' comments about a 'girlfriend' about whom he refuses to believe doesn't exist. He was confused when he checked up on my phone bill and saw that the only incoming calls I receive are telemarketers, sponsors and my across-the-street 'tutor' (and there were no outgoing calls).

I can't convince him my actions aren't selfish. I can't convince Tory to tell me what he's doing, why he's doing it and who pointed him in my direction. Worse yet, it seems I can't make it through school without his mumbling, blushing, fidgeting help. All these little failures that most people seem to float through so easily makes me incredibly depressed. Maybe it _is_ just my silly teenage hormones getting in the way. Maybe I _am_ being selfish. After all, who said I'm allowed to deviate from the Project? I should just leave any outside influences for the Doctor to handle and focus on my work.

I should… but I don't. I didn't have any concrete evidence against Tory before I went through his room, but I had _very_ solid suspicions. That isn't like me. After all, it _is_ true that we live across the street and go to the same school- it's logical we'd see each other. His staring at me during a relapse in the library was so unprofessional- even _stupid_- that it's weird it made me as paranoid as it did. And his mother's ecstatic behaviour when Tory brought a 'friend-or-something-like-that' home was enough of an excuse to bypass the whole 'special treatment' thing. Tory had excuse after excuse, but that wasn't good enough for me. My behaviour towards Tory is so _Tory-like_ it's making me sick.

So what's _my_ excuse? I'm a good boy- I did my homework on Tory just like he did me and the only interesting thing on him was how many A's he had on his report card. Why was I still pursuing him? What was drawing me in?

Goddammit. This should be so much easier than it is.

I tried approaching it like a project- stepped away, looked at it from all angles, measured it up and down, and it all comes back to that one night I saw someone watching us unpack from Tory's window.

Obviously, it was Tory. I didn't know that at the time and made a note of which window, which house, which floor. I knew whenever he left the house he headed for Mulberry, unless he was going on an errand for his mom. I knew he looked up like a scared rabbit if I ever stepped out of the duplex and that he always had his little black notebook with him everywhere he went. I knew when he was fighting with Mary, and once I even sat around and watched him wrack up points on some brightly-flashing computer game.

I remember thinking; _If aliens ever decide to invade, I want him on our side to fight them off_.

Who knows. Maybe being a pinball wizard is good enough to stop beings that can travel millions of lightyears in only a few days.

But while I was standing on the side, watching myself do all that in my minds' eye, I thought; Tory did the same thing. Every time we bumped into each other in the neighborhood he'd stop walking a few blocks away, sit down, and write down the time and place of impact. _3:40 pm EST- Collin buying oranges at Ellinki Gonia_.

Does that mean I hid it as badly as he did? No. He was the one who made the transfer to my school.

Although…

Although it was a good choice considering how his report card looked like a mutated gene code. Once again- he had an excuse. What was my excuse? Why did I stay up till ten am watching my across-the-street neighbor play _Brick_ until the counter ran out of numbers?

The evidence suggests that I'm just as unprofessional as Tory. My ego refuses to believe it. I am different. I am dedicated. I was Dedicated to the Cause before I was born- offered up to science like a sacrifice to the gods of Ancient Greece, organs splattered on stone altars to predict the future. My organs will predict the future.

I can't think about this. What do I want? What do I need?

_Need_? Well, I know what I need. I need sleep. I need to sleep like the dead for days on end and then wake up-for once- feeling refreshed and revived. I heard it's possible.

I need to brush my teeth, eat my greens and drink plenty of fluids, young man. I need to graduate high school to graduate college so that I can finally be spit back into the real world naked and screaming. I bet Tory likes that image.

I need a mind. Mine ran off.

So what do I _want_?

I guess I want a life. That day with Tory when I got to pretend I was Average, dodging pedestrians and watching Tory drool over high-tops- that was cute, wasn't it? Wasn't it fun? Wasn't it refreshing?

Is that what I want? A break from schedules and tests and a chance to go out and play Teenager? It might be fun. Maybe Tory'll go with me.

I need to talk to the Good Doctor. Maybe he'll set me up an appointment with a therapist.


End file.
